On Your Knees
by SophieRomanoff
Summary: Whumptober (yes I know its December) 1 fic every day for 31 days 1) Knees Clint and Natasha are on a mission when something goes wrong and Black Widow finds herself forced on her knees to save Hawkeye's life. What happens next? You'll have to read to find out. Stay tuned for the next 30 days, I have plenty of prompts and plenty of ideas! All Clint and Natasha centric.


I really shouldn't be starting a new fanfic right now but oh well. This is the first in a 31 fic special. I took the starting words from a whumptober post on Tumblr. I missed October so December it is. All fics will be based on one word prompts that the writer can interpret any way they want. I will be uploading them as separate fics, instead of chapters so readers can pick and choose which fics they choose to read. Mine will all be focused on Clint and Natasha with some other characters thrown in. Most are before The Avengers so are focused on our Shield family. They're all whump, some are slightly happier than others but they're not particularly happy at all. Warnings will be on the top of fic if needed.

Without further ado, let's go!

KNEES

Natasha shot her gun in rapid procession, ducking behind the wall and touching her comms device. "Hawk, come in." she said gruffly, just slightly out of breath.

The device crackled in her ear and she cursed in Russian, taking out the comms and sliding it into her pocket.

"Guess I'm going in blind." She muttered, reloading her gun and poking her head around the corner. Once two more targets we're down, she followed the sound of further gunshots, hoping by tracing the noise she would find her hawk.

The mission had started off easily enough, Natasha and Clint being sent into a party, undercover, to retrieve an object from their mark. They'd danced, drank water disguised as the bubbly they'd been handed, and watched from afar. A couple of hours in and they'd been getting steadily louder and more animated. Playing drunk. Natasha had left Clint by the bar to 'find the ladies room', bumping into their mark on the way out. Her hand slid expertly from his pocket, the USB hard drive they'd come for hidden in her palm

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Natasha had gushed, holding her hand to her mouth. "I really should pay attention to where I'm going." She giggled, tipping her head back and biting her lower lip.

Their mark had been momentarily speechless.

Phil had chosen her dress, and damn if she didn't look amazing in it.

Red and sleek, it fit to every curve. The slit down her cleavage went a long way to distract their mark, as did the red contrasting with her blonde wig and pale complexion.

"No need to apologise, beautiful. I'm sure we can find a way for you to make it up to me." The man had smiled, taking a glass of champagne from one of the waiters, handing it to her.

Natasha had taken it, sipping as she played with a strand of hair.

"I'm sure we can." She simpered, stepping closer, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

"But I'm afraid my husband is waiting." She said softly, feigning disappointment and taking a step back.

"Ah, ah, ah." The man tutted, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist.

He'd gone to open her hand and she'd yanked back, the drive firmly in her grasp.

"I have to go." She said bluntly, done with playing nice.

She turned and walked steadily over to Clint. He put his arm around her waist and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Did you get it?" He asked quietly.

"Of course I did." She rolled her eyes. "It's time to go before they-"

"Hey, stop right there!" Their mark ordered, pushing through the crowd, his thunderous rage centered on Natasha. "I think you have something that belongs to me, Little Girl." He hissed, once again reaching to grab her wrist.

The redhead glanced at Clint and nodded. The both of them immediately starting to run in opposite directions. Natasha made it out the door and into the hallway. They were not to engage in a fight where the party was. Far too many civilians.

She slid her dress hem up, grabbing her gun concealed in her thigh holster.

She ran around a few corners and waited. And that's where she was now.

Their mark had had ten or so guards hidden around the place. They'd been easy to place and even easier to dispatch of. She knew Clint could hold his own at with his guards.

But something had to have gone wrong for her comms device to be crackling. Hers was fine, so it meant Clint's must have either come out or broken. Which meant someone had gotten too close to her hawk.

Natasha rounded the corner, stepping past five bodies. The sound of gunfire had stilled and Natasha felt dread creeping into her brain. Either Clint had dispatched his guards or they had gotten him.

She got her answer when their mark met her in the hallway, his dark hair muscled and blood sprayed across his cheek.

"I have your lover. I suggest that if you want to keep him alive, you hand over that which you stole from me." Their mark sneered, whistling through his teeth. One guard came from the shadows, a gun pressed against Clint's temple.

"Sorry, Widow. Civilians got in the way so he managed to get a drop on me."

He was smiling, because when was he never not cocky?

His eyes could convey a thousand messages and she knew what they told her this time. Shoot them, get it over with.

She would have done, but the man behind Clint clearly wasn't afraid to get himself hurt. She wasn't one hundred percent sure she could shoot the guard and their mark before Clint's brains got splattered across the wall.

"I'll give you the drive back. Let him go." Natasha held her hands up in surrender.

"Slide the gun over." The mark demanded and Natasha did just that, kicking it over to him.

After taking the gun himself, her held it out at her.

"On your knees or your lover dies. Hands behind your head." He grinned.

Watching Clint's face, the redhead lowered herself onto her knees.

"Really? Hands behind her head, how do you expect her to give you the drive?" Clint snorted, earning himself a backhand with the gun.

In that split second the gun wasn't directly pointed at his temple, they both struck.

Natasha rolled forward and kicked his legs out from beneath him, in one fell swoop, she stood and grabbed his shoulders, slamming his head into the ground.

At the same time, Clint whacked the guard in the nose with his elbow, the man crashing to the wall behind him. In one punch, he was out too.

Picking up her gun, Natasha slid it back into her holster.

Clint met her halfway.

She did nothing more than touch the trickle of blood on his cheek.

He did nothing more than touch her hand.

Turning, she slid her fingers into his.

"Don't ever do that again." Clint said seriously, his brows creasing.

"Do what? Save your ass?" She grinned as they walked down the hallway, fingers intertwined.

"Don't get on your knees for anyone. Ever again." He said quietly.

"No promises, Hawk." Natasha rolled her eyes. "The job calls for it sometimes."

"I don't care. You don't kneel for anyone."

Natasha frowned and glanced over at him.

"Okay." She said quietly, matching his serious tone.

In a second, his scowl was gone and he was grinning.

"C'mon, I'm dying for a cheeseburger." He smiled.

"You always want a cheeseburger." She rolled her eyes, not able to hide the grin.

"Wait." She paused, turning to face him. "What happened to your comms?"

Clint awkwardly scratched his ear, "Um, got slammed into a wall?" He said sheepishly.

"For goodness sake, Clint." Natasha would've face palmed if her hand was free. "Medical first, then cheeseburger." She sighed and Clint nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."


End file.
